


Chenoo || American Horror

by truxblooded



Series: sᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ᴀᴜ: ᴛᴡɪɴᴠᴇʀsᴇ [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Twins, Dean Winchester and Original Female Character are Twins, Hunting, Monsters, Native American Mythology - Freeform, Original Female Character - Freeform, Other, Sibling Bonding, Survival Horror, Twinverse, Winchester Sister, monster hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 06:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/truxblooded/pseuds/truxblooded
Summary: December 31, 2000; One of Native American mythology’s most terrifying legends is a cannibalistic ice giant and it is roaming the New England forests in the grip of winter, killing winter adventure seekers and hikers alike who run across its path. The Winchester family is about to take it out.





	Chenoo || American Horror

**Author's Note:**

> [Pre-Season One era]

  * ## **Caribou, Maine; Aroostook County**

## _December 31, 2000_

    * **11:45pm**

The eerie stillness of the New England pine barrens was only broken up by the soft whisper of winter wind sweeping in through the snow heavy boughs. The breathy whisper of snowfall patering atop the already fallen six inches added to the ethereal essence of the night saturated wilderness, the pristine and untouched forest floor glittering under spattered shafts of moon and starlight that pushed through the barest spaces between the close growing pines. High above, some ten almost twelve feet from the ground, twenty-one year old Sara Winchester sat nestled into the crook of a thick branch and the trunk of the pine. A compound hunting bow sat across the tops of her knees,  an arrow loosely notched on the string, her back strapped with pack carrying sixteen more arrows strapped to her back and giving her a small amount of cushion against the rough bark. She shifted just a little, her body starting to feel stiff with the deep chill of the elements, biting back a wince and sputtering as the snow that had collected on the hood of her jacket fluttered into her face with a cold splat.

Adjusting her grip on the weapon chosen for the hunt, Sara freed her right hand and wiped at her face, gloved fingers tacky with grip padding flicking the bits of snowflake away with minimal effort. Huffing out a sigh, a frozen cloud blooming briefly before her lips, Sara pressed her shoulders against the tree trunk and arched her back to pop the stiffness out of her vertebrate. It was going on three hours now since her father had sent her up the tree armed and instructed to simply ‘wait and watch’. And that’s what she had been doing since then, waiting and watching.

Stifling a yawn, Sara shook her head to chase the brief spell of drowsiness that had started to wash over her, her yawn choking in her throat and dying when a grotesque bellowing roar ripped through the stillness of the forest. The sound was something akin to the thunderous and ominous snap of thick ice breaking and grinding metal mixed to the barest resemblance of something animalistic, and yet carrying what Sara could describe to herself as an unearthly quality. She was suddenly very much awake, her body shooting completely upright and tense, adrenaline suddenly kicking in and pushing out the chill of the winter air as her blood rushed with the mounting anticipation of the hunt now completely in full swing.

Her hands regripped the bow, fingertips sliding over the thin sliver of wood that made up the arrow shaft, making sure that it had remained notched as she pushed up off tree trunk and her ass, crouching now on the balls of her feet more than sitting as she scanned the sparsely illuminated clearing beneath the tree. There was a quiet that enveloped the small area as the roar echoed off as if it had been a passing thing only, but that quiet was disrupted with the heavy shuffle of large steps that almost vibrated the air and sent a tremor through the ground and up the trees, shaking snow from the branches. Keeping herself steady, Sara watched the very edge of the haphazard line the trees created in their partial crescent shaping of the clearing just beneath her.

Hazel green eyes scanned the dark treeline, waiting for the monster to show itself as its low rumbling growl began to filter up, like the building rev of a small motor pulling towards a full throttle. Her fingers tightened around the body of the bow as the growl started to shit around to the right and slowly circle just on the edge of the line, remaining concealed in the darkness of the late night. Only her eyes followed the sounds, daring not to make bigger movements despite already accepting the fact that the creature knew where she was, whether it showed it or not. The movement of the creature forced her head to ever so slightly move and allow her gain a few more seconds of tracking on it before it moved behind the massive pine. Swallowing hard, Sara could only blow out a slow controlled breath as she prepared for the possible explosive impact to her monolithic perch above the world, the attack to either snap the tree in half or shake her loose from its confines. However, that prepared for burst of violence never came, and Sara was suddenly slowly turning her head back around to the left as the creature kept moving in its circle back towards where it had started. Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowing in confusion for a few seconds before it clicked and she cursed softly under a breath. It knew she was there… it just didn’t know where. It couldn’t see her. It hadn’t looked upwards enough to find her amongst the boughs and snow.

Tracking its movement still, she inhaled a sharp breath when it ceased movement and remained unmoving just slightly to her left and almost back to its original point of origin on its circle. Her hand regripped the bow, fingers flexing just a touch on the notched arrow, her thumb brushing over the feathers attached for aerodynamics. Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding down on one another as the muscle beneath the skin jumped.

And then it stepped forward.

The emaciated pale skinned giant moved forward out of the treeline, blood splattered maw hanging agap in an unnatural manner and bearing its long sharp teeth with little hinderance, too long limbs causing it to look overtly misshapen despite the massive size of the creature. It was the blood spattered and standing out against the pale skin that had Sara’s heart jumping up into her throat, eyes widening in minute horror that there had already been a victim again they couldn’t save. Swallowing down that panicked horror, she steeled herself and lifted the bow and her tilted just so as she lined up her first shot via the sight, her sharp stare picking up the reason behind the blood and grotesque way its mouth hung agap.

“It ate its own lips…” She murmured softly to herself, gaze widening and losing the focus she had narrowed them into as the realization dawned on her. “It’s still hungry.” Relief washed over her for just that split second before she watched its head snap down and to its left (her right) with teeth flashing into a lipless snarl.

She heard it next, the all too familiar cock of the shotgun, her father’s shotgun, and the beast reared up with arms thrown wide as long thick gooey tendrils of mixed substances dripped and flung froth from the yellowed and dagger length fangs. John Winchester had come out of hiding, having harshly spat instructions at his sons and cast a quick glance upwards towards the tree his daughter resided in at the moment, and aimed the shotgun full of rock salt at the creature they were hunting for a week now.

**The Chenoo**. A horrific monster of Native American folklore that was all but just a story to tell around a campfire. He had watched in tense, almost terrified, silence with Dean and Sam as the Chenoo had appeared and begun circling the clearing and pine Sara had been sent up a few hours ago. His dark eyes never once strayed too far from the monster other than to peer painstakingly through the thick forest darkness to spot his daughter, to remind himself she was at the moment to some degree _safe_. John took two steps forward, unflinching outwardly as the monster turned its gaze on him and prepared to attack, its self mutilated mouth promising a grisly death the moment it sank fangs into yielding flesh. His aim would be dead on, the target being its open mouth the second it charged.

The fraction of a second it took for the Chenoo to begin its surge forward, John’s finger beginning to pull back on the trigger, the sharp whistling sound that cut the air was a minor distraction before the creature was suddenly struck in the temple causing it to reel sideways with a distorted pathetic whine. The whine didn’t last long before anger and rage consumed the Chenoo and had it recovering, bellowing angrily as it clawed and struggled to tear the arrow protruding from its skull as smoky wisps began to rise into the air rapidly. Its frustration utterly clear before it snapped its head in the direction the arrow had come from just as a second was set loose and struck it dead center between the eyes. Another short lived whine and the Chenoo howled.

John stared wide eyed for a moment, the first arrow’s impact and effect having caught even him off guard, and then panic set in watching the creature turn its attention right for his daughter. **“SARA!!”** The second arrow hit and that’s when fear snowballed into the chaotic mix of protective parental instincts and bone deep terror his daughter was going to die… and not for the first time either.

**“SARA!!”** Dean’s panicked shout collided with the roar of the Chenoo, as he exploded up out of the foxhole like dugout he had been hiding in with their dad and Sam, wide eyed and gripping the shotgun in his hands in a white knuckled hold as Sam followed after him.

The Chenoo whipped around and breathed out a snarl through its fangs, red eyes fixed on the three men until another arrow sunk into the base of its neck from an angle and prompted the pull of John’s shotgun trigger. Rock salt exploded in the Chenoo’s face before it could even charge, the piercing pellets burned like hot knives through its skin and added more wisps of smoke to the already thickening curls from the point of impact the arrow heads had dug into. The sound that came from the Chenoo was blood curdling, its overly elongated claws flailing to get the rock salt from its face, tearing and self mutilating itself to do so. A blast from Dean’s shotgun sent the monster reeling, its long powerful limbs sweeping wide and uncontrolled, one massive backhanding sweep hitting the trunk of the pine that Sara Winchester was situated within.

A splintering crack resounded as the pine buckled under the force of the blow, the monolithic tree swaying with a groan and sending the perched hunter scrambling to somehow hold on, but failing as she tried to hang on and keep a grip on her bow and the arrow she had been preparing to notch.

_“Son of a bitch!”_ Sara snapped out, hissing as she had to toss her weapon as her body had been knocked so completely off balance, the dread of falling the twelve feet to the ground shooting through her. There was no saving her ass on this one and she knew it, but self-preservation kicked in and she still tried hard to hold on.

From their place on the ground, all three Winchester men watched in horror as Sara came dropping down out of the pine, striking the ground quickly with a none too soft impact despite the thick layer of snow. It was Sam who heard the muffled cry of pain from his big sister, eyes going wide before he darted for her first out of sheer panicked instinct.

“SAM!” John snapped his youngest’s name, going to grab for his son as he darted passed in a mad dash through the snow. Cursing as he missed, John cocked his shotgun as the Chenoo seemingly recovered enough to catch the movement going on around it. Taking aim and firing, John’s eyes darted for where his daughter was starting to push herself up awkwardly in the snow, noting how she was holding her right arm to her body.

The sounds of shotgun fire mixed with the roaring snarls of the Chenoo and added the dizzying disorientation Sara was overcome with, her vision doubled and blurry as a dull ache throbbed up her arm and radiated through her upper body. She knew what had happened, the second she struck the ground in an awkward position as she had twisted mid fall to make sure she wouldn’t impale herself in any manner with the arrows housed in her pack, she felt the shift and pop in her forearm when she landed. Groaning as she pushed herself up, Sara’s world spun for a few seconds and caused her stomach to flip as she fought to regain her focus. As her vision came back into focus, the massive flailing shape of the Chenoo was the first thing she zeroed in on, the shouts of her dad and brothers mixing into the chaotic noises already surrounding her.

Shaking her head, Sara groaned as she pushed herself up on to her feet and swayed while looking around the area for her compound bow, panting as the dull ache turned into a painful lance of white hot pain that shot through her body. Another triple round of shotgun fire rang out as her gaze found her weapon lying about a yard away, the bellow of the Chenoo propelling her to scramble for the bow. The snow made it difficult in her mad dash, the pain of her injury not helping either as any unbalanced step jarred her more than likely broken forearm.

The Chenoo swiped and charged in blind fury, missing John and then Dean before it spun and bellowed at Sam who had just fired on it next. Reloading quickly, John shot a panicked glance towards his daughter, relief flooding him at the sight of her on her feet and running through the snow. “Good girl.” He breathed before turning in time to watch Sam barely miss taking a clawed swipe to his head. “SAM!”

Dean aimed and fired, anger surging through him now at the near decapitating blow his baby brother missed by inches. The Chenoo whipped about ready to lunge only to howl in pain, hands trying to reach back and grope for the new arrow now protruding out from the base of its skull. Green eyes snapped to focus on his sister, who was on one knee in the snow looking out of breath and in utter pain as she reloaded her bow, wincing and crying out as she started to pull back on the bow string for another shot. Dean’s eyes widened, as he watched for the split second he could as Sara grit her teeth and used her whole body to pull the bow string back.

> _“The story I got from the old woman in the bookstore says that the girl who had been cursed by a scorned potential suitor, told her family and the rest of the village to shoot her seven times.”_

“Three more; come on baby girl, three more!” Dean breathed out as he turned to the monster his dad had just pumped another round into to keep it distracted. Pumping the shotgun in his hands, Dean took a few running steps towards the creature that lumbered and swung its arms around to catch any of the three of them in a disoriented lucky strike, aimed and then fired.

As the rock salt struck the Chenoo, another arrow struck in the ribs, Sara’s aim failing her just slightly as the pain of her injury had lanced through her in response to the strain the pull was putting on her arm. “Five.” She ground out through her teeth, practically doubling over sideways to cradle her throbbing arm. Biting back on the pain and fighting through it to right herself, Sara pulled another arrow from her pack, grimacing as the movement tweaked her arm.  

Gritting her teeth, Sara inhaled a quick breath as she loaded the arrow and pulled back. She didn’t have to aim for any spot in particular, she just had to hit it, but vital spots were an auto target for her and so she aimed for the Chenoo’s eye this time. Growling through the pain that thrashed it’s way through her entire body, Sara pulled the cable string of the bow back and inhaled a breath to hold and steady her aim despite the blood roaring in her ears. On the slowly controlled exhale she released the tension that had been built and set the arrow loose.

The Chenoo flailed and whipped about when Sam fired, catching it across the side of its face blinding its left eye, the sudden flurry of movement causing the arrow completely miss and embed itself within a tree trunk with a dull heart sinking thunk. The wind was all but knocked right out of Sara as she watched the arrow completely miss, horror at the sight causing her body to sag in its already downed position. Failure blared through her mind and for a moment she seemingly disconnected with what was going on around her, her eyes glued on that arrow just sticking out proudly from the tree it had impaled rather than the monster they needed to kill. She had missed; and while Sara had missed many shots before, those also being critical shots in a hunt as well, something about this shot had her gripped in a wrong way. The ringing sounds of the shotguns in the hands of her dad and brothers continued to sound out around her, muted in some strange way as if everything had just faded out for that long but brief moment.

And then… there it was. That distant echoing bark, like some far off sound that bounced off canyon walls and vibrated up back to her, calling for her attention. The volume was soft and faint as always when it started, then suddenly it was a loud sharp piercing ring in her ears, snapping her back into focus and at attention.

John Winchester watched as his daughter almost collapsed in on herself as the arrow missed, the look on her face betraying her openly as she stared off in defeat to where the arrow had gone when it missed. He had seen that look more than enough to know she was berating herself for having in her head ‘failed’ and let him down. Every time he saw that look on her face, or on the faces of his boys, it punched him in the chest and crushed his heart a little more. A shout from Dean to Sam had John turning quickly to watch as his boys ducked and dodged behind a pine as the half blind Chenoo howled and slashed around in an all out frenzy.

“SARA!”

Her head jerked, eyes widening as she watched her dad stare her down for all of a second before aiming and firing on the Chenoo to gain its attention. Blinking rapidly for a few seconds, her mind seemed to catch up to what was going on and her body was suddenly in motion again, her face contorting into a pained grimace as she yanked another arrow from her pack. Fitting the arrow on the cable she pulled back, biting out a small cry of pain she sucked up on her drawn in breath to focus and level.

_Six._

The arrow struck the Chenoo right in the back of its head, the blow biting deep into the thick skull of the monster and sending it angrily bellowing loud and whipping around so quick the movement sent John off his feet as he reeled backwards to avoid getting caught full on by the deadly claws. The front of his winter coat was slashed, the fabric easily splitting under the razor edge of the wicked claw, the down and cotton stuffing spilling quickly through the tear. Hitting the snow and struggling to get back on his feet, John watched in utter fear as the Chenoo lumbered forward in charge for Sara.

From their places behind the pine they had ducked for cover, Dean and Sam paled, watching as their sister struggled to her feet as she pulled her last arrow and fumbled to get it on the cable, the pained sneer on her face telling all three Winchester men she was hurting beyond all belief. Dean was out from behind the tree first, Sam right behind him, as all rational thinking went straight out the window and the only thought to race through his head was getting to Sara and protecting her, take over the compound bow.

Crying out, the bone splitting pain spiking across her system mixing in the utter anger she felt for this whole hunt and the beast bearing down on her, Sara finally notched the arrow and in one last defiant fight through the burning in her arm she pulled the cable string back and stood her ground.

“TWIN, MOVE!!”

“SIS!!”

The Chenoo roared as it lunged and in mid motion seemed to crumple in on itself but still continuing forward through its momentum. With a heavy thud its massive body hit the ground right where Sara stood, the ground and tree shaking tremor rippling through the clearing and spiraling fear tighter into the pits of their stomachs, an eerie quiet consuming the air as the original silence of the dark forest found position again. The Chenoo lay unmoving and deathly still. Nothing else moved or sounded from that spot… Nothing.

John was the first to propel his body into motion and race through the heavy snow that had been upturned and poke marked from the corralling of the Chenoo, passing his boys and barrelling for the downed creature that had either crushed his daughter or killed her. “Sara!!” John called hoarsely as he ran, scrambling to a stop and panting, looking the massive ice giant over and trying to figure out where his daughter was beneath it. “SARA?!” A small muffled grunt and quiet _‘Here’_ came back to him from the opposite side of the Chenoo, and with sharp inhale he quickly rounded the creature, noting the way its body seemed to steam along the edges where it lay pressed to the ground.

On that opposite side, Sara Winchester lay half caught beneath the Chenoo, struggling to push the ginormous weight off as it pinned her and immobilized her left leg and hip entirely. The compound bow was laying a few feet away, flung out of her hands after the arrow had been released straight into the wide open jaws of the Chenoo when it had been mere feet from her. There was a few scratches across the right cheek, her lip bearing a split as her nose also bled from one nostril, the collision with the Chenoo having knocked the bow into her face hard. Her right arm throbbed painfully as she kept it tight against her chest, left hand bracing against the sparsely haired body of the Chenoo along with her right foot to push and shove the weight off that kept her trapped.

“Sara!” John breathed out in relief seeing his daughter stuck and banged up, but not in the worst shape he imagined. Leaning against the Chenoo, John could only smile in that disbelieving and rejoicing manner at the sight before him. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna send your old man to an early grave with stunts like that.” He chuckled, humor barely dancing around the edges of his words as he spoke.

The stuttered chuckle from Sara that came back in response, along with heavy huff of an aggravated sigh, had John shaking his head and then looking up as the rush and flurry of Dean and Sam hurrying over caught his attention as well as Sara’s. “Oh, hey guys.” Sara grunted out as she finally gave up trying to shove the dead monster off herself.

Dean hit his knees beside his twin sister and all out tackled her with a crushing hug, burying his face in her hair to calm himself down and breathe. She was alive. His twin was alive and she had just pulled off one hell of a kill shot. Pulling back, Dean grabbed her face in both hands as he fought back the sting of tears as thumbs stroked over her cheeks, careful to avoid the scratches inflicted there. “I thought I lost you.” He whispered out, leaning in and kissing her forehead. “Don’t ever do that again.” Dean pushed out on a breathless laugh, Sam’s own relieved laughter joining in as he reached passed Dean to brush stray hairs out of his sister’s face.

“Sam, help me get this thing off your sister.” John’s voice broke in as situated himself, dropping low and bracing his shoulder against the massive body. “Dean, help her out when we get it up.”

Sam braced himself up against the Chenoo’s body, copying his dad’s stance and on his count shoved with everything he had as Dean had already hooked his arms under his sister’s arms and now pulled her out from under the gap created with a little kicking help from Sara. The second her body cleared the possibility of getting caught under it again, John and Sam dropped their hold and moved as the dead weight of the creature hit the ground again.

“Looks like your research really paid off, kiddo.” John glanced over at his daughter with a small smile, watching as Dean hooked her left arm over the back of his shoulders and neck and wrapped an arm around her waist as he hoisted her up on to her feet. He didn’t miss the twisted grimace that crossed her face in response to the pain of her arm being jostled so suddenly, or miss how she was now favoring her left leg a little. Exhaling a sigh, John scrubbed a hand over his face and gestured at the dead thing before them. “So next is…”

“Cut it up and burn it. We need to melt its _‘heart’_.” Sara recited, leaning into Dean for support, panting around a wave of pain that the dwindling adrenaline and the chilly cold of the air no longer numbed. Her teeth chattered behind her lips regardless of how hard she fought it, the snow having soaked right through her jeans after the initial tumble from the tree and remaining down in it the entire time.

John arched a brow, a smirk tugging the corner of its mouth. “Burn it? I thought you had just said melt its heart this morning.”

“Well, that was before I was nearly turned into a human popsicle.” Sara chattered out, her own smirk matching her dad’s and pulling a small laugh from Dean.

Barking out a short lived laugh, John shook his head and nodded. “Chop and burn it is; Dean, help your sister over to the tree so she can sit, I need you and Sam to help me take care of this thing so we can get out of here.”

Sam huffed a breath, glancing as his brother and sister, worry furrowing his brow as he really didn’t just want to see his sister shoved off to the side and left by herself considering her injuries. His body jerked with the attempt to follow after Dean and Sara, halting when his dad snapped his name out and called for him to stay put. Sam watched as Sara glanced back over her shoulder at him, her eyes locking with his and giving him that look before lifting her chin in gesture for him to go help their dad.  

Exhaling a frustrated and defeated sigh, Sam turned and trudged over to his dad reluctantly, mentally muttering and grumbling while his worry lay with how beat up his big sister was and he couldn’t go to her. Dean was with her, but that didn’t ease Sam’s worry in the least bit, especially with Dean trotting over now to help in dismembering the Chenoo.

It took several hours, but the mammoth cannibalistic ice giant was chopped up and burnt in a fire as per the manner in which the lore from the local Wabanaki tribe had given Sara a few days ago. The massive almost miniature human shaped lump of ice they had hacked out of its chest dredged in salt and set a flame, took the longest to be rid of entirely. With their task accomplished, the Winchesters made the long walk back to where the Impala was parked, clambering in and driving off by the time the hour had changed over to 2am. They made a stop at the local ER, a quickly made up story of a hiking accident that seemed to work just fine in their favor and one forearm cast later with a bill made out to a Mr. James Parks, the Impala was pulling back into the small motel parking lot and the family of four were spilling out and staggering into their room.

All three of John Winchester’s kids hit one bed after managing to somehow change out of their snow soaked clothes, Dean helping Sara despite the slight awkwardness, and were knocked out by the time he even wandered back in from visiting the outside vending machine for a quick cup of coffee. Shutting and locking the door, John checked all the salt lines and wards he put up every hunt, and then sat down on the edge of his own bed with a quiet groan as his own body ached from the rough hunt. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, John stared at his sleeping children, all three grown adults but still his children. Sara was sandwich as always between her two brothers, Dean squished up on her left, his arm hooked under her neck and curled across her collar as slept turned slightly towards her and yet subconsciously mindful of her injury. Sam completely curled into her right side, face buried in his pillow but still curled in towards his sister. And then there was his daughter, his pride and joy at that moment (and always), sleeping on her back and bearing the bruising and cuts from the hunt.

John was absolutely proud of his daughter, her research into the hunt and the way she had handled how they had had the rug ripped out from under them as the confrontation began, he was so proud of her. Gone was his little girl who chased after her baby brother and doted over him like a little mother and scolded Dean when he got into mischief. In her place was a young woman who was growing into something he could see becoming a terrifying sight in her own right as a hunter. Shaking his head with a fond smile on his face, John took a long drink from his coffee and then set it on the bedside table before rolling out on to his back. Staring up at the ceiling of the room, he whispered a thanks to Mary as he did every night, silently thanking her for watching over them even in death. He still had his children, his family, for however long he was lucky to have it.

* * *

ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ sʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴜʏ ᴍᴇ ᴀ [ᴋᴏ-ғɪ ☕](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Fko-fi.com%2Ftruxblooded&t=MjQ2YmZkZjgzNjRlZDM1NTU0ZjViMWE4MTNmODgxYTZmNDZjODFmNCxpWGNjTlR3SA%3D%3D&b=t%3AEEGhv8i2vGSXl8vBRRI9HA&p=https%3A%2F%2Ftruxblooded.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F182040088975%2Fchenoo-american-horror&m=1)

 




 


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